Like Angels, Winged
by Michael R. Burch

Like angels—winged,
shimmering, misunderstood—
they flit beyond our understanding
being neither evil, nor good.

They are as they are . . .
and we are their lovers, their prey;
they seek us out when the moon is full
and dream of us by day.

Their eyes—hypnotic, alluring—
trap ours with their strange appeal;
drawn like moths to flame, we gather . . .
to see, to touch, to feel.

And in their arms, enchanted,
we feel their lips young/old,
and with their gorging kisses—
we warm them, growing cold.

Published by Monumental Moments (Eye Scry Publications), Poetry Life & Times, Behance, Razor Sharp and Dracula & His Kin. Keywords/Tags: vampires, angels, winged, wings, flit, flitting, evil, good, lovers, prey, night, day, moths, flame, appeal, attraction, kisses, warm, cold

Wait. What was I talking about? I hear such strange things. Such disturbing thoughts.

How relaxing.

Relaxing?
Ahh yes, i was relaxing in my lounge chair.

How Frustrating.
I Misplaced my ideas in the depth of my kind.

Kind?
Yes I do believe I am such a person to bestow kindness towards others.
Though I Haven't the clue the sorts of.

Wait. This wasn't what i was speaking of earlier.

Infuriated i should be had not my curiousity been aroused awoken.
My friend the call to attention has spoken.
Seek to find it's end by all ends you may enlighten.

Be Frightened?
Nay, Tis but a play for play is for the youth of all, be stick or stones or colored ball. At the ball awaits the guests. You guessed it. The Royal Tea of Royalty for Royal tea for three today. Some tea for three at play..
Though I haven't a clue the sorts of...

Hey.
Repeat again now.
Hey. . . Please stay.
Was this the topic?  Nay.
For Shame.
I speak of you my dame. 'Tis ye beckoned my name.
Come join my fun and game. Only yourself to blame.
No worries now. I'm tame.
From wind I am it's flame